Thanks to a demon or the
Evil One, himself, we had abandoned our beloved home.I wondered those moments if we would ever be able to live in
it again.Eusebius, a daytime
optio for Samuel’s sector of town, stopped us once as we approached the
entryway to the estate but only to ask Papa what was wrong with the young
girl.Prudently, in anticipation
of his meeting with Papa, Regulus hadn’t shared his knowledge with the other
optios, so Papa simply explained to Eusebius that they were bringing the child
to the physician Abner for treatment.Nothing was said about Rhoda’s ordeal or the abandonment of our
home.With what struck me as a
long, suspicious silence, the optio surveyed our group before giving his horse
a kick and galloping away.

“When this gets around
Nazareth,” Papa confided to us, “our reputation will be in the cloaca again.”

“No,” answered James, “we
give him credit for it.It was he who called upon the
Lord.One doesn’t blame God.I do think he got Him angry this
time.How many times has he
counseled us not to tempt the Lord?”

“Yes, on the contrary,
Mama,” Joseph replied calmly, “we don’t think this is his fault one bit, but he
was foolish.Yet he’s the bravest
person I’ve ever known, which proves this time that he’s mortal and expects too
much from himself.”

The stretcher-bearers had
entered first.A doorman stood,
holding the great door for the remainder of us.

“Shush!You must be quiet inside Samuel’s
house!” Mordechai demanded, motioning for us to file in.

“Are we gonna get
sweetmeats Papa?” whispered Abigail.

“Yes, if you behave,” he
said from the corner of his mouth. “Uncle Samuel’s doing us a big favor.We must all be on our best behavior
until our house is cleaned.”

“We’re gonna be all
right,” Mama said, patting her daughters’ heads.

Papa put a good face on
the crises.Bravely, yet humbly,
Mama and Jesus had also bounced back from the ordeal for the sake of the
children.The expressions on James,
Joseph, and Simon’s faces told me that they looked forward to staying in
Samuel’s estate.We would all get
cleaned up in the bathes, eat well, and sleep on fine pallets.Tabitha’s hand in mine was unexpected
during the crises.Though I felt
guilty for such thoughts, it made me giddy with delight.Even Uriah, who Jesus had counseled on
the way, seemed relieved that the Pharisee had given us sanctuary in his fine
house.Above all, I realized that
nothing—neither storms nor threats of danger—could break Jesus’ spirit.I heard him laughing at something
Martha had said under her breath.Suddenly, in spite of our misfortune, my family began acting normal
again.

Abner had made a cursory
inspection of Rhoda, who would be bathed and placed in a special room.She was, he explained briefly, as we
waited in the entrance hall, alive, her vital signs were active, and she might
someday awaken from her dark sleep.Perhaps her mind was damaged, but he just didn’t know.This was, Mama reassured Uriah,
actually good news, since Michael had gone through this state too.That should have been enough to set our
minds at ease.Uriah had, like
myself, counted her among the shades, as the Romans would say.Now, it appeared as if Rhoda, like
Michael and Reuben, would have a long convalescence at the end of which, we
hoped, she would spring back like Mariah’s’ son.Of course, in retrospect, this wasn’t completely true.Michael had never really shaken his
“evil spirit.”The question was, I
asked myself, as I contemplated my family’s fate, would Rhoda, if she came to,
prove to be a problem too.What
if, this time, the patient didn’t wake up at all?

With Tabitha so close, it
was difficult for me to keep my train of thought.The voices of servants, herding us like sheep down a
corridor, jolted me back to reality.All of us, especially Jesus, one of them declared, were ritually impure
after our experience.We would
have to bath thoroughly and put on new garments before eating or sleeping.No one, not even Joseph, argued this
time about going to the Roman style bathes.There was no question of ritual impurity.We had, as Abner called it, been
slimed.I enjoyed sloshing around
in the heated water, as did Uriah and my brothers.Judging by the laughter on the other side of the wall, I
could tell that Mama and the girls did too.Of all the participants, Papa, who had been given a mug of
wine, took the most pleasure in the bathes.

“There’s different kinds
of wine,” Papa said, offering me a sip. “I prefer Falernian.You can’t get much sweeter than that!”

Neither Jesus, James, or
Joseph said a word about his actions.It just wasn’t that important.Too much had happened today that overrode everything else.Why was I thinking about Tabitha so
much?She was practically my
sister.No one seemed that worried
about Rhoda.Was it because of
what Abner had said about her vital signs?She was still alive, but she might never wake up.In that dark place that Jesus and Mama
didn’t seem to have, did we wish that she would just die and be done with
it?We didn’t need another
incorrigible like Michael in our house.

******

That night, after our
purification in Samuel’s bathes, we dressed in clean clothes provided by the
chamberlain.Papa had his chat
with Regulus in Samuel’s garden, while we gathered at the table.We would learn at dinner that the optio
had been shaken badly by the event.His suggestion, of course, was to burn our house to the ground and build
anew.I don’t know whether Regulus
understood the difference between a Hebrew demon and the pervasive evil spirits
of Roman religion.I only learned
this myself later during my journey to Antioch.All we understood that night was that the optio saw in the
terrible smell and mess a bad omen, not for himself but for his superstitious
men.Priam and Falco liked and
admired Jesus.Like the other
guards, even on the other shifts, they felt he had supernatural and magical
powers.Though the rule in the
provinces was less defined, witchcraft was illegal in Rome.Because most of the guards were Romans,
themselves, they carried this superstition and fear, and yet, after our ordeal
with Rhoda, we knew we had nothing to fear.Even the optio had great respect for the oldest son.

Papa explained to Regulus
why he didn’t want to burn our house: he had built it with his own hands and
such a conflagration would alert the town.How could we explain this to our neighbors and friends?Yet what other choice did he have?It would, he told us at the table, be a
controlled fire, similar to the one priests performed to cleanse the inside of
ritually contaminated abodes.The
trick was to scorch it without catching the entire structure on fire.Regulus thought this was an impossible
task, but he could suggest nothing better.What came out of the short meeting in the garden was Papa’s
realization that the optio couldn’t accept the possibility that Mama was a
witch or that her oldest son practiced sorcery.He, in fact, accepted Mama as a healer, not someone who
practiced the black arts, and was convinced Jesus had godlike powers.

After those last words,
Papa shook his head. “I’m sorry, I know it sounds blasphemous, but I didn’t
argue with him.With such a high
opinion of Jesus, I figured he might give us the benefit of the doubt.”

“Under the
circumstances,” James said, heaving a sigh, “you had no other choice.”

Mordechai and Abner both nodded
gravely.Samuel, who was propped
up by pillows on a nearby couch, grunted in agreement.Jesus gave Papa a troubled look but
said nothing, as the subject of our recent crisis became a religious
discussion.

“It all goes to show,”
Samuel wheezed, “is that God often tests a righteous man.”

“I never liked that
scroll.” Abner made a face. “Why would the Lord allow Satan to persecute a
righteous man?”

“The point is sir,”
confessed Jesus, “I tested
God.

At this point, Samuel
insisted that someone give the Shema so we could begin eating.Samuel, himself was on a strict diet,
but following Mordechai’s brief prayer, the rest of us jumped into the task
with gusto.As we munched, I looked
across the table and discovered that Mama, in spite of her experience, was
enjoying the feast, as were Uriah, the girls, and my four brothers.Papa, who chatted amiably with
Mordechai and Abner, as Samuel muttered under his breath, always seem to make the
best of a bad situation.Even
Jesus, who was greatly troubled by the will of God, ate heartily that
evening.The uncomfortable subject
of our home’s defilement was made light of, as the men grew tipsy during the
meal.During the banter, a
suggestion made in jest caught my attention as I chewed my food and continued
to guzzle pomegranate punch.Pausing long enough to hear them above the crunching of my jaws, I sat
my mug down and pricked up my ears.

“Well, I agree with your
optio,” Mordechai said with a belch. “Burn it down.Samuel or I will give you a loan to build a bigger house.”

“No,” Papa shook his head
and wiped his beard, “I couldn’t do this.Samuel’s done enough.”

“You’re all talking as if
I’m no longer here,” grumbled Samuel. “I don’t see why Joseph and his family
can’t stay here.The house is big
enough.”

“What?” Mordechai caught
his breath. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious,”
Samuel’s voice quivered. “It’s either them or my worthless relatives.There’s nothing that can be done with
Joseph’s house, except its destruction.My time is growing short.”

Papa seemed to register
mixed emotions at Samuel’s suggestion.Now that the solution had shifted from loaning money for building us a
new house to living with our benefactor, however, Mordechai had a change of
heart.

“Surely, something can be done,” he gave Samuel a worried
look.“Fire might be out of the
question.Even scorching the
inside will damage the structure.Maybe after it dries, it can be scraped away, like sheep dung off a
walkway or food off a table.Then
it could be ritually cleaned.”

“Yes, that might work.” I
caught Papa’s gaze. “I remember vomiting on the floor once.It was cleaned away without a trace.”

I was certain everyone
else agreed.Even Mama made a
face.Yet Papa’s eyes
widened.He nodded slowly, as he
took another swig.Slowly, as it
was murmured back and forth between the chamberlain, physician, and Pharisee,
the idea set Papa’s eyes ablaze.“You know something,” he announced, wiping off his beard, “all this time
that ordeal made us believe our house might be uninhabitable because of the
stench and being ritually impure, but Mordechai might be right.” “We, my
family,” he said, standing up and looking around the table, “lost our heads
today.Rhoda did such a thorough
job of sliming, its very memory made me want to take a torch to the house and burn
it to the ground.”

“Humph, let me get this
straight,” Abner said, amused by the thought. “You’re going to let that
infernal filth dry and then scrap it off your floor and the walls of you
house.”

“Well,... it’s worth a
try,” Papa said after chewing a mouthful of food.

Abner chuckled to
himself, apparently in his cups.Being a physician made him especially coarse, but Papa seemed delighted
at the thought, and Mordechai, who dreaded having the house filled indefinitely
with guests, was relieved.I was
just happy we had a plan.Jesus
had said nothing as he ate his dinner, until this moment.

“I remember scraping bird
droppings off a freshly sanded table.” He took a methodical sip of punch.“It left a stain, but stains can be rubbed
out or painted over.If we all
work diligently, we can return our home to normal.”

Everyone cheered his
enthusiasm in their own way.As
the girls clapped their hands, James and Joseph stroked the chins in
agreement.Mama smiled faintly at
her oldest son, her blue eyes twinkling with approval.As usual, Uriah was too busy gobbling
everything in sight.I had eaten
so much, myself, I thought I might burst, and yet I was content.We had a plan!The men laughed aloud, Samuel cackled
with mirth as the servants poured the men more wine.I don’t know how he managed it so quickly but Simon reached
over while Papa was chatting with Mordechai, and drank half of his goblet of
wine.I was too far away from the
adults to try this, but my turn would come.Even Samuel, though ailing, was tipsy tonight.Tomorrow night, I would make sure I was
sitting beside Papa, Mordechai, or Abner.Of all the people at the table, I think Jesus was the happiest, and he
was as sober as a stone.His face
radiated with purpose again, as if God, Himself, had whispered His approval
into his ear.

******

That night we retired to
our pallets in much greater spirits than when we entered Samuel’s house.As before, I shared a room with Uriah,
James shared one with Joseph, Papa and Mama shared the same quarters as did the
girls, and Jesus, like the stricken Rhoda, had a room to himself.That this seemed unfair, considering
the fact that Jesus didn’t appear to sleep, didn’t occur to me, until I began
writing down my thoughts.It seemed
callous, as I reflect, that only Mama and Jesus seemed concerned very much for
Rhoda’s health.A word I hadn’t
yet learned back then—perfunctory—was how I must describe our endearments as we
looked into her room.A small lamp
cast its ghostly glow upon her as she lie on her pallet, with hands clasped on
her chest.She looked already dead
to me.As the scribes might say, I
had mentally written off this troublesome girl.Except for Mama and Jesus, we held out little hope.

From Uriah’s babbling
lips came the pronouncement most of us felt: “She’s going to die.It was too much for her.”

“Don’t worry, Uriah,” I tried to console him, “Michael survived.He was half starved before Jesus got to
him, and he lived.”

“Hah,” Uriah spat
bitterly, “I remember when Jesus cast out his demon.He was never the
same!”

Uriah continued to
chatter.Under normal circumstances
I would have been impressed by these deep thoughts.His words, at least, had matured since our schooling in
Nazareth.Unfortunately I was too
exhausted to care.As before, when
Uriah wouldn’t shut up, I found myself drifting gradually into slumber, Uriah’s
voice fading into the twilight world preceding sleep.

“I’m so-o-o-o-o
sle-e-e-epy....Zzzzzzzzz....Zzzzzzzzz.”Suddenly,
as I tumbled down that long dark corridor to sleep, I remember being shaken and
hearing distant blather, but that was all.There were no visions or even a trace of a dream recalled
the next day.

******

Upon awakening that
morning, I sat up suddenly as if someone had just screamed at me, which in fact
they had.The door to our chambers
was open.A servant scurried
past.Uriah was nowhere in sight,
as I looked around the shadowy room, rubbing sleep from my eyes.Again I heard a voice calling my name,
this time in the distance: “Jude come quickly!”Fearing that some new disaster had befallen my family, I
quickly dressed and slipped into my sandals then ran toward the sound of the
voice.

“James, Joseph, Simon,”
Papa waved his arms excitedly, “Rhoda has disappeared.According to the servants, Jesus and
Mordechai have begun looking for her.If she acts like a wild beast again, an uninformed sentry might just
strike her down.” “We must hurry!” he called back, as he led us out the
door.In the background bewildered
by this turn of events was Uriah.Mama kept the girls in the house as Papa insisted, though Tabitha
insisted on coming along.

“I thought she was in the
dark sleep,” Uriah whimpered.“Rhoda was practically dead.”

“We can’t wait for you to
catch up,” I counseled, as I tried keeping up with the others.

“Two-by-twos!” Papa
stopped to direct.“Slow down if
you hear galloping.If a sentry
asks what’s wrong, we tell him we have a family emergency.If he asks who, we’ll tell him
truthfully that it’s the rabbi’s daughter.” “Just let me do the talking.” He
threw up his hands.

Sure enough, as we
reached the main road down the hill from Samuel’s estate, a sentry called out
angrily, “Halt Jews!What’s the
hurry?”

Papa sputtered out our
story.Uriah, still trailing in
the distance, was bawling.Tabitha, restrained by Mama, was still back at the house.

“Why is that child
weeping?” snapped the sentry, climbing off his mount.

“That’s Uriah,” piped
Simon, “he’s sister’s very sick.”

The Roman frowned down at
his.Unfortunately, it wasn’t our
acquaintances Hadrian or Balto but a new sentry, we hadn’t seen before, who
climbed off his horse.

“I am Callisto,” he
mumbled curtly, “please state all your names.”

Obediently, we responded
in sequence.When Papa sounded
off, the sentry’s eyes widened in recognition.When Uriah arrived at the scene, James clamped a hand over
his mouth.

“I’ve heard about you.”
He reached out to pat Papa’s shoulder. “Ho-ho, you’re that carpenter, who has
that miracle-working son.”

“Well, yes.” Papa sighed
with relief. “We’re proud of him.”

“Hah!Proud isn’t the word!” he exclaimed,
removing his helmet and wiping his brow. “From what I heard, your son’s a
demigod.He cures dead people and
makes it rain.Hercules was once a
demigod.Now they build statues of
him.We Romans worship men like
that.”

In Callisto’s blasphemous
and misinformed words, Jesus was given his strongest praise by a pagan—a
stranger at that.Not one word
from Papa about Rhoda’s health was mentioned.It no longer mattered.As if his recognition of Jesus’ father made everything all right, he
jumped back on his horse and, calling back a friendly admonition, galloped
away.

“Good health Joseph of
Nazareth,” his voice trailed off. “Counsel your children not to run in town.Nothing is so foolish here than a
running Jew.”

With this amiable insult,
he reminded us of one of the Romans’ most important rules.Quick-stepping down the main road and
through our gate, we dashed impulsively up to the front door, yet halted before
entering the house.

“Well,” Papa said,
looking over his shoulder, “here goes.”

“This is going to make me
sick,” Simon made a face.

“Me too,” Uriah shivered
with dread.

Though he opened the door
just a crack, the smell immediately assailed our nostrils.

“Lord of Heaven,” he
groaned as he opened the door, “can I really clean this place up?”

“We’re going to do it
together,” I reminded him bravely, pinching my nose.

When we entered
one-by-one into the shadows of the shuttered house, it sounded as if we all wretched
at once.James and Joseph backed
away in revulsion.Uriah and Simon
had, as we stood in the center of the large room, already ran back out into the
front yard, gasping and making gagging noises on the way.Lurching forward like drunk, holding his
forearm up to his mouth, Papa almost made it to the window as if he might let
in some light, then just as quickly changed his mind.

“That’s not a good idea,”
he concluded settling shakily onto a stool.

“We’ve seen enough,” I
said, my tunic pulled up to my face, “Rhoda’s not here.”

“It’s so dark.” James
cried, tromping across the floor. “Let’s open the back door for light.We don’t want anyone smelling this.”

A stream of sunlight
filled the room.It was, as we
expected, empty.Just for good
measure, though, James peeked into the back room, and Joseph checked our
parents’ chambers.Needing no more
affirmation, we all rushed out the back door for fresh air.

I knew Papa was upset, so
I didn’t argue with him.Even with
this horror before us, I could see disagreement registering on James’
face.Joseph was bending over and
vomiting, as I imagined Simon and Uriah did in the front yard.We looked around, searching numbly for
signs of Jesus and the girl.

“Your oldest brother will
never give up on lost souls.” Papa said wearily. “We should never have taken
that girl in.”

“Where do you suppose she
is?” James glanced up and down the yard. “You think she might’ve ran off
somewhere else?Last time she ran
down the road.”

“Dear God, I hope not,”
Papa grabbed his forehead. “She would be in great danger with all those
soldiers about.” “On the other hand,” he added, scratching his head, “they might be in danger too.”

“What do we do now?”
Joseph asked weakly. “She could be anywhere.She could’ve ran into Samuel’s woods.”

“Unless, of course,” I
suggested, looking across the yard, “she ran down the Shepherd’s Trail.”

“I think,” Papa declared,
settling on a stump, “Jesus and Mordechai are out there right now hunting for
Rhoda.They’ll need the help of
the sentries to bring her in.”“This isn’t good.” He buried his face in his hands. “In broad daylight
she’ll become a spectacle in town.”

“Please Papa,” I said,
trotting toward the trees, “let’s check the trail.I have a strong feeling about this.Come on James and Joseph.It’s where I’d go.”

“You’ve never been possessed,” replied Joseph.

“I’m not so sure about
that,” quipped James.

The four of us negotiated
the trail as if we might encounter a wild beast, which, considering what had
happened, was not far from the truth.Simon and Uriah, we learned later, had returned to Samuel’s house.Though frightened, himself, Papa
insisted on leading us, brandishing a branch, which he moved right and left
before him in comic flogging motions.In hysterical humor, James called it a demon switch, giggling foolishly
as a small furry animal crossed our path. In spite of our laughter, all of us, Papa included,
picked up stones to brain Rhoda with.It occurred to me, though, when I considered the facts, that we had nothing
to fear.It seemed to me that
Rhoda would run from
not to us.It also appeared likely she would have
awakened from the dark sleep as Michael had, moving about sluggishly as the
walking dead.When I considered
how deathlike Rhoda’s pose had been, any other alternative seemed unlikely.Nevertheless, Papa, James, Joseph, and
I expected the worst.Anything was
possible after yesterday’s ordeal.

When were halfway down
the trail and could see the camp and plain below, something moved in the
distance chilling our bones.Suddenly, as I moved past them, shielding my eyes from the morning sun,
I wasn’t afraid.There, amidst a
handful of Arabs, including their leader Odeh, mulled several Roman
soldiers.Two of the sentries had
dismounted from their horses, while the remainder appeared to be on foot.In the center of the Arabs and Romans,
stood a tall young man in white holding the hand of a small child.

“Merciful Abraham,” cried
Papa, “what does this mean?”

“It’s not good,” mumbled
Joseph, “not good at all.”

“Are they angry with
Jesus and Rhoda?” James voice quivered. “What do you think?I can’t tell.”

Fearing how the Romans
might interpret my actions, they tried to stop me in my tracks, but I was too
fast.Remembering Callisto’s
warning about running Jews, I felt stupid but also joyous.Papa was furious.James and Joseph were fearful.By the time they caught up with me,
however, I was close enough to holler a greeting and let them know I wasn’t a
threat.

“Regulus, Gratian, Leto, Diblius, and
Zeno!” I cried.

An event that required
our optio, four of his men, and two roving sentries, had boded ill from afar,
but the Romans, Regulus included, were in good spirits.Jesus appeared to have been chatting
with them.Even the normally
sour-faced Leto was smiling at something Jesus said.The most amazing thing, of course, was Rhoda, who was once
again acting like a young child.

“Your son chased this
child half way into the desert,” Regulus explained jovially to Papa.

“Ho-ho!” Gratian laughed,
slapping his knee. “Ran like the furies, both of them—‘specially the girl.”

“You scared me to death,”
Leto confessed, grinning at Jesus. “I saw this mad little thing scurrying by
then a streak of white, which turned out to be you.At first, when I heard the commotion, I thought we were
being attacked!

“Praise the Lord,” Papa murmured,
clutching my hand.

Regulus stepped forward
to grip Papa’s forearm. “Our sentries witnessed the whole thing, as did my
guards.Go ahead Zeno,” he
motioned amiably, “you went after her.Tell them what you saw.”

“Well sir,” the gruff-looking guard cleared his throat, “it’s like
Gratian and Leto said, only we were closer in.Ol’ Dib and me was walking the perimeter when we saw this
wild thing run past.I thought it
might be a mad jackal or dog, but it went so fast we couldn’t make it out.Then we saw this fellow in white
dashing after her, calling her name over and over.I couldn’t make out the rest.Maybe he was praying.” “Truth is,” he added, shrugging his
shoulders, “she was too fast—even for him.Luckily, the sentries were making their rounds or she’d be
long gone!”

“Jesus was really upset,”
claimed Diblius, “like he wanted to ring her neck.”

“I could see that,” one
of the sentries jumped in. “She would’ve out ran him too, if we hadn’t rode her
down.”

“Roped her like a mad
thing,” the second sentry boasted.

“Zeno was correct,” Jesus
said flatly, “I was praying.Rhoda
was still in the grip of darkness.Now she’s fully awake.”

Though we didn’t trust
her yet, this person holding Jesus hand was not the same Rhoda we had seen in
the past.The snarling beast had
apparently left.Jesus would not take
credit for ‘waking her up,’ but the soldiers looked upon him with awe.The spirit of the Romans as they
mingled with shepherds and Jews before departing also left a lasting imprint on
my mind.